


The Dark Inside

by mythicalwolfpup



Category: Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Betrayal, Kidnapping, Memory Loss, Multi-POV, Other, Secret Passage, Torture, darkplier is just a demon in marks body, markiplier/darkiplier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:09:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7379347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythicalwolfpup/pseuds/mythicalwolfpup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You meet Markiplier of all places at a local grocery store but little do you know that a demon is controlling him.<br/>Ryan and Matt have been worrying about Mark's memory loss but the situation gets more dire when they find a hidden room in their basement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memory Loss

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story awhile ago and recently found it again on my computer. I'll be uploading it in a couple of chapters because it is a lot of text but I will not be seriously editing it. Please pardon any big editing mistakes. That being said, please enjoy. I think this is the only Darkiplier fic I have ever written.

Reader POV

It is a bright day in LA and you are walking down the street as usual on your trip to the store. Given that your car has broken down and now sits useless in your driveway this is the only way to currently get groceries. You are new to the area and have yet to find a friend with a car other than your slightly creepy neighbor. The sun beams down on you as you finally get across the parking lot and into the semi-crowded store, looking for sustenance light enough to carry a couple blocks but strong enough to keep you going long enough. 

Turning abruptly from the candy aisle in a desperate attempt to save your money, someone smashes into you, sending you reeling back. “I am so sorry!” comes a voice as you rub your stinging arm. 

“No its my fault,” you say, looking up but find yourself frozen in a moment of heart dropping amazement. “Oh my god! You’re Markiplier! I am so sorry!” The words stumble out of your mouth as you view your YouTube idol with his shock of dyed hair and kind brown eyes. He holds a gallon of milk loosely in one hand. You shuffle your groceries awkwardly in your hands, not really sure what to do. 

“Oh you’re a fan! I’m really sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” He apologizes again. He reaches out a hand and touches your elbow as you clasp the loaf of bread you were about to drop to your chest. “Are you okay?” His eyes hold a kind of self-deprecating humor and you can see that he really does care. 

“Yeah I’m fine, don’t worry. It was nice meeting you. I have to go now.” Your mouth runs away from your mind and before you can fully realize what you are doing, you have excused yourself and are hurrying down the candy aisle, leaving a bemused Mark behind you. You utter a quiet curse. You were talking to Markiplier! Why did you leave?! You shake your head at your foolishness and continue getting your groceries, the random encounter with your hero leaving you shaking slightly even as you pay at the register. The bags on your arm, you are crossing the parking lot when you see him loading his groceries into his car. Before you can stop yourself, you walk up to him. “Hi, Mark? I’m sorry for bothering you but can I get a picture with you?” 

He looks up and smiles. “Sure thing. And sorry again for running into you like that. I’m usually more careful.” All of a sudden he jerks back, closing his eyes and bringing his hands to his head as if in pain. You hear him gasp slightly.

“Are you okay?” you ask as he starts shaking slightly. You take a step forward, your heart hammering. Should you get help? Do you need to call someone?

A second later he stops shaking and a voice that is not Mark’s answers you. “I’m perfectly dandy.” He lowers his hands and your blood freezes in your veins. It isn’t Mark standing in front of your anymore, it’s something else. His eyes are entirely black, as if two pits were staring at you out of a slightly familiar mask. The smile on his face is more of a sneer and dark veins show through the skin on his forehead, which is pale. How is this possible?  
You take a step back but the not-Mark takes a step forward. There is a blur of motion on your right side and then darkness.

******************************************************************************************************

Mark POV

I sputter awake on the couch of all places. I must have fallen asleep. The dream stays with me for a moment; the face of a scared girl in front of me. The sense of betrayed trust. I shake my head to clear the thoughts and look around for the time, feeling disoriented. Slowly memories come back. Matt and Ryan are off filming somewhere for their channel. I was in charge of getting groceries. The memory of going to the store in the car is in my head but for the life of me I can’t remember driving home. I get up from the couch and woozily stand. I am exhausted for some reason, as if I had stayed up all night editing again, even though I hadn’t. 

The cupboard has new groceries stacked neatly inside and a fresh unopened gallon of milk is in the fridge. I must have made it home and put away the groceries but I can’t remember any of that. The front door opens and I can hear Matt and Ryan coming in, laughing about something. I don’t want to tell them that it happened again but they did make me promise after the last time I woke up disoriented without memories and in the middle of downtown without a car. 

Matt rounds the corner into the kitchen first but Ryan is the one who sees my expression. “Mark, something wrong?” I could lie and joke around, telling them that everything was fine. But part of me knows that they need to hear the truth. Either way my silence lasts a little too long and now the mood in the room shifts.

“Mark, what’s going on?” Matt asks, setting down the equipment from their shoot. 

I take a deep breath, turning to face them. “I can’t remember,” I mutter, not really able to explain. 

“Remember what?” Ryan asks. I can feel a deep frustration brewing inside. This is hard to talk about and I need them to understand somehow. But I am also frustrated that I have to explain at all.

Suddenly I can’t contain my angry voice and I hope that they know I am not really angry at them, just frustrated at the situation. “I don’t remember how I got home from the store,” I yell. “I don’t remember driving home. I don’t remember putting away the groceries at all. The last thing I remember is waking up on the couch where I don’t remember falling asleep!” I take a deep breath, running my hands through my hair in an attempt to stop their shaking. 

There is silence for a minute before Ryan speaks up. “Hey, man. We’ll figure this out. We can go to the doctor again—“

“I know! Sorry, I’m just frustrated. The last time we went nothing was wrong with me.” 

“Maybe they’ll find something different this time,” Matt suggests and I nod. I want this to stop; the possibility of losing time again scares me. I want to know what is wrong with my head. 

We stand in the kitchen for a second and then I brush past them and to the couch where I sit, hoping that the memories come back.

*************************************************************************************************************

Reader POV

You wake up slowly, your body softly throbbing with discomfort that in your sleepy state is hard to pinpoint. Slowly you open your eyes, blinking away the bleariness and find yourself extremely disoriented. Where are you? What is going on? You are lying on a cement floor, and your shoulder hurts from where it has been pressed under you. Your arms won’t move and you realize your wrists are tied behind your back. Looking up you see that you are in some kind of cage-structure with bars running from ceiling to floor, a couple of bars running horizontal to the floor at foot high intervals from each other. There isn’t much space between the bars and though they are thin, they look like solid heavy metal. Looking down your body and past your feet you see what must be the door of your cell, a strong lock attached to more bars. 

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest and your breath hitches in your throat. Where the hell are you? Beyond the bars is a small dimly lit room with one door in it. The ceiling is low with several cross beams running across. A single bare light bulb lights the entire space. Scuffing the ground with your feet and rolling with all of your core strength, you manage to get into a sitting position. The cage is small; maybe four paces long the short way and maybe six from the wall to the side with the door. 

You try desperately to remember what happened and how you got to this place but your head is spinning. All you can remember is the grocery store…and Markiplier was there. Your heart beats faster remembering that fact. And the last thing you remember is that there was something wrong with Mark…and then Mark wasn’t there anymore, and something was there instead. 

‘What is going on?’ you think. ‘Maybe there is someone here that can explain it?’ 

“Hello?” you test out your voice. Your jaw hurts a lot on the right side and your voice sounds raspy. The single word echoes slightly. Nothing happens in response. “Hello?” You say louder. Nothing happens. What if you are alone? What if you never find out what is going on? Surely no one would leave you here without any answers. 

Panic sets in and you start screaming words out with no particular meaning until you are sobbing in fear. You let out wordless scream after scream in the hope that someone will come. You fill the small room with the noise and you hope that someone anywhere, really anyone can hear you. 

******************************************************************************************************************

Ryan POV

I’m worried about Mark but I try to stop staring at him where he sits on the couch, instead helping Matt grab the cameras that we used and turning to go store them. The house is eerily quite, with no one saying anything. Usually at least someone is doing something loud. We hardly ever have time with a silent house. Something makes me stop in my tracks. A sound in the silence behind the regular house noises. “Do you hear that?” I ask. Matt stops at the doorway. 

“Hear what?” he asks. Mark looks up from where he sits on the couch, his face dark with confusion about what is happening to him. 

“Listen,” I tell them, cocking my head to the side. The look on Matt’s face suggests that he thinks I am pulling his leg but he shuts up and listens as well. The sound happens again and this time I can fully notice it as something real. It is too soft to really tell what it is but it is definitely something. 

“What is that?” Matt asks. We set down the camera equipment, this new mission to find the cause of the sound a good distraction from Mark’s problems. 

“I heard something,” Mark comments, standing up and pushing his problems to the side. We all pause a moment before the sound happens again. 

“Basement,” we all say in unison and run to the stairs. I run down the stairs first, my shoes hitting each wooden step with a smack. Once at the bottom I flick on the light. The others pause with me and we hold our breath until the sound comes again. 

“What the hell?” Mark says. 

“That sounds like someone screaming,” Matt says. The sound drifts around our basement, still rather faint but definitely there. I slowly walk into the room and over the left side where the screams might be a little louder and over until I am right in front of a built-in wall cabinet that was there when we moved in. Looking down at the floor I can see some kind of light scratch marks as if the entire thing were shifted and put back. 

“Guys, check this out,” I say and they come to stand next to the cabinet. With a few tugs we manage to move the cabinet a couple inches forward and out from the wall. A draft drags across my skin and I can smell stale and musty air flowing past my face. “What the hell,” I say, covering my nose. 

“Secret passage? No way.” Matt says. Mark remains unusually quiet but his face shows his confusion. The screams are even louder with the cabinet moved as if someone were trapped down here for some reason. It sounds like a woman screaming but I can’t make out the words. “Let’s go!” Matt commands, sliding his thin body behind the case and into the space behind. A moment later a light flicks on and I can see some kind of passage. 

I start forward but Mark grabs my arm. “Ryan I have a really bad feeling about this.” I can see the worry in his eyes behind his glasses but the scream comes again.

“Someone needs help, Mark. And it’s a secret passage. I want to know what’s going on.” I turn away and squeeze behind the cabinet, swiping at the cobwebs that brush my face. Matt waits at the end of a small passage and I join him looking down a dark set of steps that lead to a dark door. Mark squeezes into the small space behind us. 

“Anyone want to fess up to being a secret mass murderer?” Matt jokes weakly. No one laughed. Down the stairs we go, a three-pronged bundle of manly fear, as we approach the hidden door. My heart is pumping blood fast and I know my face must be red with exertion. Apprehension fills my chest. What is behind the door? The door looks heavy and has a solid lock on it but there is a key dangling from a peg on the wall. I grab it and fit it into the lock, which gives a faint click, barely heard through the loud screams, and open the door. 

The screams are suddenly louder and then they stop as the three of us step into a small room, lit by a single bulb. The ceiling is low with wooden beams running across it but the walls and floor are all concrete. Some kind of cage is in the corner of the room.

“Holy shit!” Matt says and jogs into the room. A girl is locked in the cage. She looks to be around Matt’s age, early twenties at the latest. 

“Oh my god!” I hear myself say and follow Matt slowly across the room to where he is looking at the door to the cage. The young woman is crying, her hands bound behind her with something but something Matt says to her has her nodding and calming down. “What is this place?” I turn to look at Mark to see his face white and his eyes huge.


	2. The Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark is controlling Mark's body so what will happen to everyone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this chapter is dark. Only one more after this I think.

Reader POV

You try to remain calm as you realize that your saviors are Matt and Ryan, Markiplier’s housemates. “It’s okay. I’m going to get you out!” Matt says as he tries the door. It doesn’t even move but just them being here is enough and you feel yourself calming down somewhat. From their expressions it is clear that they have no idea what is going on either and you feel like they are trustworthy. 

From behind Ryan you see another form and then Mark takes a step into the room; the real Mark, his brown eyes worried and his face white as he takes in the room. “Do you know why you are here?” Matt asks as he continues trying to get the door to yield. 

“No idea,” you answer. “I was getting groceries and then…” you trail off, not even really sure how to explain you had seen Mark but not seen Mark at the same time. “Someone knocked me out and I woke up here.” You finish uncertainly, looking nervously at Mark where he is turning on the spot in the middle of the room. 

Ryan walks forward, a pocketknife in his hand. “I can cut your hands free,” he offers. You painstakingly slide over the rough cement floor to the bars where he is at, positioning your hands near the metal. You feel a couple of tugs on your wrists and then a feeling of freedom. You curse slightly as your shoulder seizes up, and you slowly stand, turning to face your saviors. 

Matt still struggles with the door as Ryan gives you a reassuring yet slightly panicked smile. It is so weird seeing them in real life and not through a screen that they almost seem unreal. You look past Ryan to see that Mark has stopped his examination of the room and is now clutching his head as if in pain. Your breath seizes in your throat. You have a good idea of what is coming. 

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asks, seeing your sudden change in demeanor. You can’t bring yourself to speak but you back away from the bars slowly and raise your newly freed arm to point at Mark. 

“Look out,” are the only words that squeeze past your lips before Ryan turns to see Mark collapse. 

********************************************************************************************

Matt POV

I look over from struggling with the metal door on the cage to see Mark fall down clutching his head. “Mark?” I hear Ryan exclaim and we both hurry to our friend’s side. Mark uses one arm to push himself away from the floor, eyes tightly shut, the other hand grabbing at his head as if he has a migraine or something. 

“Mark? What’s wrong?” I ask, putting my hand on his shoulder. He swats my hand away and I give him some space. He lets out a strange keening sound through his teeth. 

“Man, can we do anything?” Ryan asks, crouched next to him. We exchange a worried look. First the forgetting, then the mystery room with the girl in a cage and now this. It is a weird day. 

Suddenly Mark jumps to standing, his hands falling to his sides. I stumble to my feet next to Ryan. Mark is standing strangely, his head hanging forward, his shoulders clenched. I hear a faint gasp from the girl behind us but before I turn to look I am distracted by a darkness that seems to coat Mark’s body. I can see veins through his skin and there are suddenly dark hollows in his cheeks. “Mark?” I ask. His eyes open and instead of the usual brown, all I can see is black, not even white showing. My heart stutters an extra beat and I take an involuntary step back. 

The thing standing in front of me isn’t my friend. I know this instinctually, even though my senses tell me that it looks like Mark, I know deep down that this is a different entity and a dangerous one at that. Before I can even think about how to react, Mark/Not Mark moves with deadly accuracy and punches Ryan across the face. Ryan falls seemingly in slow motion to the floor, knocked out cold. 

“Mark! What are you doing?” I yell as he takes a step towards me over my friend’s unconscious body. He backs me up until I feel the cold bars of the cage digging into my spine. 

“Not Mark,” the creature breathes. “He’s not here right now. Call me Dark.” A rough snicker comes from him and before I can even try to dodge there is a rapid movement, and then nothing.

********************************************************************************************

Ryan POV

I wake up abruptly, and the flash of memories hits me. Where is Mark? What is going on? My jaw hurts and I try to raise a hand to my face but my arms are bound to the folding metal chair I am sitting on. I look around the dim space and realize that I am actually in the guest bedroom upstairs. The bed is stripped of its sheets which hang like makeshift curtains over the windows, keeping the interior space dark. The mirror hanging on the wall is spider-webbed with cracks. My breathing picks up and I look around desperately for Matt or Mark, something to tell me what to do. The chair I am tied to is next to the stripped mattress and I squirm against the bonds around my chest, arms and legs. 

Dark laughter fills the room and I freeze to see a shadow detach from the entryway of the bathroom. The small table lamp flicks on, the lamp shade horribly askew, to show Mark. But it doesn’t look like Mark beyond stature and dyed hair. His skin is sickly and dark veins show through his skin. His eyes are black pits that stare at me and his smile is an evil grin. 

He snickers again. “Ryan, why the worry?” His voice doesn’t sound like Mark’s. “You can call me Dark,” he says slowly, his grin growing even wider. He takes what looks like a washcloth off the small table, twisting it in his hands with something resembling glee. “We are going to have fun!” His laughter drifts through the room again and he walks forward.

“Mark, what is going on?” I manage to say, my voice almost catching in my throat. 

“Mark isn’t here anymore. It’s just me.” The strange man says. “You can call me Dark,” he repeats, his smile growing less jovial. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Dark then,” I say. The name sounds strange in my mouth, and it is hard to call my friend, even when he really doesn’t look like Mark anymore, anything other than his name. “What’s happening? Where is Matt? What are you doing?” Dark steps closer to me until he walks to the side of my chair, making me turn my head to look at him. He continues to twist the cloth in his hand. 

He takes a deep breath, seeming to cherish the moment. “It has been centuries since I have found a suitable host that I also cared enough for to possess outwardly. Since I now have a corporeal body, I think it is high time for some fun, though my definition may be a little different than yours.” 

One of his hands grabs my shoulder and pushes. The chair tips and my stomach lurches as I fall backwards, letting out a sharp yell, attached to the chair before coming to a sudden and unexpected stop, halfway to the floor, caught by the mattress behind me. The chair rests at an awkward angle and my feet are tied to the legs of the chair now parallel with the mattress. My head and shoulders rest on the bed and the back of the chair digs sharply into my back. I squirm uncomfortably, trying to move my arms to no avail. Dark looks down at me, seeming to smirk at my discomfort and grins before reaching under the bed and bringing out a gallon of water. “Don’t worry,” he says, tossing the washcloth over my face, “If you drown I’ll just bring you back to life.” 

I try to move my head and to shake the cloth off of my head but the mattress is soft enough that I can’t really get any strong movement going. “Don’t move,” Dark says from somewhere above me and then there is pressure on my face and cold wetness spreads across my forehead, splashing down over my nose. Suddenly there is more water than air and the next breath I take is all water. I choke. Water is up my nose, in my mouth and in my throat. I try to cough but only swallow more water. Vaguely I can hear laughter above me. I am drowning, straining at the ropes that bind me but dark spots start floating in front of my eyes. 

Just before I feel like I will die, the water stops and the cloth is ripped from my face. I gasp in air, choking and coughing. My eyes are streaming and I feel nauseous and exhausted. Dark crouches next to me, his lips inches from my ear. “Are we having fun yet? That was just a taste, to get you started.” I can hear the smile in his voice and before I am fully recovered, the soaking washcloth is back over my face and I can hear the cap pop off a new gallon of water. “Let’s get this show on the road.” I hear him move forward and I try to yell but water fills my mouth in the darkness of my watery world filled with pain. 

**************************************************************************************

Matt POV

I pull again uselessly at the rope binding my wrists to a metal loop low on the cement wall of the hidden chamber. There is just enough length on the rope to sit with my hands in my lap but now I am once again on my knees, trying to find a way to break either the bonds or the hook on the wall. My wrists burn with every movement as the rope burns my skin but I try to ignore it the best I can. 

“If you haven’t gotten it in the past three hours, I don’t think you’ll get it now.” The quiet voice comes unexpected from behind me where the girl sits in the cage. The comment isn’t demeaning, just very logical. 

“I have to do something,” I respond, letting my hands drop. My wrists throb where they rest, reminding me of the torn skin. 

“Take a breather,” she says. “My name is (Y/N), and you’re Matt, right?” I nod. “You can’t help Ryan if you hurt yourself trying to get free.” Her logic makes a lot of sense so I turn and sit against the wall. 

“It’s been hours. I just want to know what’s going on,” I explain. When I came to, Ryan and Mark were already absent, my hands already tied. I have so many questions that my head is splitting. Where is Ryan? Where is Mark? Why is there a hidden room under the house? How did this girl get here? What is going on? 

I am about to ask (Y/N) if she has the answer to any of the questions but then there is sound from the other side of the door, and the sound of a lock clicking open. The door opens to reveal Mark, or rather Dark, supporting Ryan. My friend’s hands are bound together and Dark forces him through the doorway and towards the wall. Ryan staggers and I sense that something is wrong with him. Dark pulls more rope out of seemingly nowhere and attaches Ryan’s bound hands to another metal loop on the wall before snickering and sauntering out the door. The lock clicks again before I speak. 

“Ryan! Are you okay?” His face is waxy and I can see that he is for some reason soaking wet and shivering. Without answering, he turns away from me and pukes up what looks like water before closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. “Ryan? What happened?” I try again but get no response. 

I hear the girl speak up from where she sits across the small room. “I think…I think he’s been tortured.” I look over at her to see her worriedly looking at Ryan. Her words make my stomach hurt and I look back at my friend who turns and pukes up more water. 

He rests his head against the wall before looking over at me and I can see in his eyes the horror of what has happened and his fear for the future. “Mark’s gone, man. Dark is something else and this is…actually fun for him.” Ryan pauses and I can see in his face a warning, still trying to look out for me. “He’s just getting started.” 

***************************************************************************************

Mark’s POV

At first it feels like a dream, dark images out of control in front of my eyes. My body aches and every movement causes pain to radiate through my head and my core. Then I start seeing familiar things, my house, set exactly as it is in the waking world. Ryan’s face as he looks pleadingly at me. They are just flashes in front of my eyes but slowly I can feel the darkness wrapped around my mind, pulsating and I push against it softly, trying to see what it is. As soon as I do, pain erupts and I feel my body stop the action it was pursuing. 

I realize that this is not a dream, and that something is very wrong. Does that mean that my friends really are in trouble? It is hard to remember anything but I catch a brief glimpse of the room again, the cement room with the cage in the corner and a smaller figure sitting inside. Ryan and Matt sit against the wall, hands bound with what looks like rope. I need to help them. That thought spurs me to action and I push against the darkness in my mind, feeling it stretch reluctantly. Pain shoots through my head once more but I grit my teeth and suddenly I am able to feel my hands again. 

I lift my arms to my face, clawing at my eyes and trying to lift the mask. I twist my torso and with a painful snap, the dark presence retreats for a moment and the floor rushes at me. I lie panting in the kitchen, weak evening light filtering through the windows. My limbs shake uncontrollably but the pain has abated somewhat. I struggle to sit up but I find that I am too weak. The floor is cold but I can’t do anything about that. I am tired physically and mentally from my battle with whatever is trying to control me. 

“Get…out!” I manage in between gasps. I hear a low chuckle in my ear and whip my head to the side but nothing is there.

Suddenly a voice fills my head, stabbing painful pressure behind my ears and eyes. “You are stronger than I gave you credit for, but I will soon retake your body and then you will be mine forever.” The words scrape down my skin like nails on a chalkboard. 

“No, I won’t…let you!” I gasp defiantly, thinking about my friends. I can feel the darkness pulsating in my head again and my vision is slowly fading. I try to push against it but this time there is no give to the feeling. 

“We’ll see,” comes the voice again and then I can’t feel my feet or hands anymore. I try to say something but I am once again locked in my own mind like a candle suddenly blown out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please consider leaving kudos or a comment.


	3. Fighting Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark is ready to kill them all but will Mark be able to win the fight in time?

Reader POV

Your stomach hurts for want of food, reminding you that the last thing you ate was a granola bar for breakfast that morning. Now, an unknown number of hours later, you feel the need to something more. Your mouth feels dry and you know that means you are probably dehydrated. 

Silence fills the room. You were talking with Matt a little until Ryan fell asleep and then decided not to wake him. From where you sit it looks like Matt, with his head resting against the wall with his eyes closed, could be asleep as well. Wishing for the thousandth time you knew what time it was you stretch slightly, getting to your feet and moving around the small, encaged space and rubbing your butt which is sore from the hard ground. Your jeans and t-shirt can hardly keep out the chill seeping from the cement floor and walls and you rub your arms, trying to get some blood flowing. 

Suddenly, there are paces from behind the door and then the lock clicks and in strides Dark. Somehow, he looks even less like Mark than before but you can’t tell exactly why. Matt wakes with a jerk and Ryan fearfully opens his eyes. You watch Dark cross the room and notice that he is carrying some kind of heavy cable wound in his hand, like a TV cord or something of that nature. He stops in the middle of the room and turns on the spot. He presence seems to fill the space, his shadow thrown across the ground by the light hanging from the ceiling. 

“I’m bored!” Dark announces to the room, making a broad sweeping gesture. “Anyone here have any suggestions?” Silence permeates the air. You are frozen where you stand, afraid that if you move you will attract unwanted attention to yourself. He continues pacing, turning the cord in his hands until it is mostly unraveled. He holds the two ends and the loop almost brushes the floor. “None?” He laughs, twirling the cable through the air experimentally. “I had a couple of ideas and finally settled on this one. You see…” he paused and spun the cord through the air a couple of times above his head, a low whistling noise filling the room. “You see, I have always been curious…” He stalks towards the spot where Matt is sitting against the wall, staring up at him. “…to see exactly…” He crouches down in front of Matt, the cord held loosely in his hand. “…how many lashes it takes for someone to lose their voice.” You can see him smile at his young editor in a savage and maniacal way and you suddenly understand that the cord is a makeshift whip. In a blur of movement that none of you can follow, Dark is on his feet, the cord whistling through the air. 

SMACK! The loud sound reverberates through the small room as the cord hits Matt on the shoulder. Matt lets out an agonized yell, turning to face the wall to protect his front. His bound hands raise into the air as both a prayer for peace and an attempt to protect his face as he sinks into the wall. The cord is already on the way down, falling with a crack across Matt’s back and the following shriek has you racing to the bars and screaming at the top of your lungs for Dark to stop hurting him.

“Stop!” You hear yourself say. “Stop it! Don’t hurt him!” At the same time you can year Ryan yelling something vaguely coherent and you can see him struggling with his bonds as the homemade whip cracks down again on Matt’s scrawny shoulders. You feel your voice shredding as you scream in unison with Matt but above the sound comes Dark’s laughter. 

Suddenly you are angry, angry with yourself for getting into this mess, sure. But you are more than angry at Dark for everything that he is doing. Looking at the man who used to be Mark makes you remember all the videos you watched hunched in front of your computer, sharing a smile with the real Mark. The Mark who cried seeing fan-made videos or who screamed loudly when scared, the one who sang to reduce tension during a game and spent hours putting captions on compilations with the hope that someone would laugh. Maybe Mark isn’t gone like Dark says. Maybe he can hear you through Dark’s mask. 

“Mark!” You yell desperately, “Mark, you can do this! Resist him, Mark! Please! Come back! We need you! I know you are strong enough!” With the noise in the echoing room, you can hardly hear yourself but Dark pauses, arm drawn back as if you strike again. He stands frozen for a second and then seizes up, almost like something inside was trying to pull all his extremities back inside his body. Dark’s form falls to the floor next to the forgotten cable and freezes except for his head which turns from side to side as if watching some internal ping pong match. 

Matt turns from where he is pressed against the wall and I can see a red welt crossing his face. You can see the horror in Ryan’s face as he watches his friend laying on the ground. A roar fills the room and Mark’s body squirms on the floor, his torso lifting as if something in his chest were trying to take flight. From where you stand, you can see some kind of black liquid dripping from his nose and his skin is rippling, the dark veins seeming to squirm below the surface like worms. 

“Come on, Mark!” you scream, not even caring that tears are spilling down your face. You can’t remember when you started crying. “Fight!”

Matt stares as Dark convulses on the ground but Ryan adds to your plea. “Mark, I know that you can hear me! I’m rooting for you! Kick that devils ass!” 

A howl louder than any before tears from Mark’s throat, his body convulsing so strongly you squeeze the bars, hoping desperately that he doesn’t hurt himself. 

Suddenly, the movement stops and he grows still, lying on his back in the middle of the room. The silence is cold and shocking compared with the previous chaos, when suddenly there is a gasp and the familiar figure in the middle of the room rolls onto his hands and knees and pukes up a viscous black liquid that comes foaming out of his mouth and nose. The dark veins under his skin seem to get sucked away. The pool of dark liquid sucks together into a puddle on the floor, the color seeming to absorb all the light in the room before gurgling gently and soaking through the cement floor, leaving behind no trace but the smell of sulfur and burnt rubber. 

**********************************************************************************

Mark’s POV

It was the voices that gave me the strength to push against the darkness. Dark let me watch what he was doing to Matt but all I could do was rage uselessly before the voices called my name in the dark. A girl’s voice stood out against all the pain and rage, speaking words of hope and strength. Somehow I pushed against the darkness and it slowly gave way before my strength. 

My insides burn and I suck air in, the voices still playing round in my head. I slowly push myself back onto my hands and knees from my stomach where I had fallen after the darkness has disappeared. My joints ache and I can’t stop my hands from trembling. 

“Mark?” I hear Ryan’s hopeful voice and look over to see him clearly now that there was no darkness in front of my eyes. He looks like he has been through hell but I can see recognition instead of fear in his eyes which melts my heart. 

“It’s gone,” I manage, my voice coming out hoarse but definitely my own. “It’s not in my head anymore.” 

A semi-familiar voice comes from behind me and I look over my shoulder to see the girl in the cage. “There is a key that fell out of your pocket but your knee. I think it opens the cage.” Looking at her brings up mental pictures that are not my own, horrible murder and blood coats my retinas but the images fade as soon as they appear like a vague memory recalled to the surface only to be forgotten instantly. I somehow manage to grab the key from the floor with my shaking hands and crawl over to the door of the cage. It takes three tries to fit the key in the lock but when I do, the door swings open with a rusty creak. I sink to the floor, sweat dripping from my brow, the simple effort exhausting after my battle with Dark. I watch as she hurries to Matt, Ryan’s pocketknife somehow in her hand and starts cutting his bonds. 

“It’s okay,” I hear her calming voice say. “It’s over.” My eyelids slowly grow heavy, my eyesight blurs and then everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a short chapter but this is the final part that I had written down from the depths of my computer where I found this fic. Feel free to leave kudos or a comment. Any and all feedback is appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I will be updating tomorrow when I have time to read more of the scribbles from months ago. Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed. Any and all feedback is appreciated!


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